


That Particular Time

by KeepGoing



Category: Queer as Folk (US), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All events take place in NYC, Awkward Encounters, Brian doesnt know about Stiles past, Brian moves to NYC to be with Justin but it doesnt work out and he meets Stiles, Derek moves to NYC and meets Justin, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, I have no idea where this fic came from but I needed to write it, Justin doesnt know Derek's a werewolf, M/M, Meant To Be, NYC is pretty small for these 4, Soulmates, Stiles goes to college in NYC to follow Derek but it doesnt work out, Trying to move on, Unrequited Love, fights and tears, reuinted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles finds out Derek moved to NYC, he decides to go to college there. But things don't exactly work out as he thought they would and when he decides to intern at Kinnetik NY he doesn't plan on falling for the owner, Brian Kinney. </p>
<p>When Derek moves to NYC to get away from his past he doesn't plan on meeting artist Justin Taylor. He never thought he'd feel this way about someone again. </p>
<p>When Brian opens Kinnetik NY to be closer to Justin, he soon realizes that not all his and Justin's problems can be solved by living in the same city. So when Stiles Stilinski begins working for him, he finds out maybe he could care for someone again. </p>
<p>When Justin and Brian finally realize maybe they weren't meant  to be together, after all, he wasn't looking for another relationship when he met Derek Hale. But the heart wants what the heart wants sometimes.</p>
<p>Teen Wolf/Queer as Folk crossover with endgame Sterek and Britin. </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
    <b>At that particular love encouraged me to leave. <br/>At that particular moment, I knew staying with you meant deserting me.<br/>That particular month was harder than you'd believe but I still left;<br/>At that particular time.</b>
  
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So for some reason, I had to write this. I know it might squick some people on the whole Derek/Justin, Brian/Stiles thing...but in my head, I think I wrote this in a way you'll be able to picture it. I hope you all give it a chance. 
> 
> If you have never seen Queer as Folk or Teen Wolf, some of this might not make any sense...
> 
> Comments are love.

  
  
**_Prologue:_ **

 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Derek looks down at the mess of blonde hair scattered across his bare arm and smiles at the man whose hair it is but feels the tight pang in his chest that he gets every now and then when he lets his mind wander back to old memories in a town 3000 miles away. He brushes a few strands off the man’s forehead and crystal blue eyes look up at him. 

“Yes. A long time ago.”

“Did he love you?” The blonde sits up, shaggy hair sticking every which way as he reaches across the coffee table in front of him on the floor and grabs a fortune cookie. 

“I don't know. He didn't know how I felt.”

“Ah, unrequited love. I know the feeling well.” The blonde rips open the wrapper and smirks as the cookie falls into his naked lap. “Oops.”

Derek loves nights like this. Nights when it's just then in his apartment. Eating Chinese food on the floor, naked, and laughing and talking about everything and anything. 

“What was he like?” The blonde asks as breaks apart the cookie. He examines the fortune inside, his brow creased in concentration and then rolls his eyes and throws it over his shoulder onto the rug behind him. He shoves both halves into his mouth and crumbs fall into his naked lap, as everything else, he tries to eat usually does, and looks at Derek for the answer to his question. 

Derek smiles. 

“A lot like you, Justin.”

***~~***

Brian snaps his laptop shut and stretches his arms above his head as he watches every few minutes as his employees file past his office on their way home for the night. He switches off his desk lamp and stands, grabbing his jacket off the rack. He shoves it on and when he looks up toward the door and can't help but smile. 

“Ready to go, boss?”

The man leaning against the frame of his office door is giving him that smirk that kills him every time. 

It also reminds him of someone else who used to smirk at him like that. A long time ago. In a different city that seems thousands of miles away now. 

“Depends.” Brian walks toward the smirker and gets a bit too close into his personal space, which he normally wouldn't do but everyone is pretty much gone for the night, and honestly he never really cared what the people who worked for him thought anyway. 

“Mmm,” the man nods. “On what?”

“Where you’re headed.” Brian answers. 

The man leans up, just a little because he’s pretty tall considering what Brian is used to, and plants a solid firm kiss on his mouth. 

“Oh there? I know that place. I frequent if often.” Brian wraps his arm around the man's shoulders and leads him down the hallway and out onto the busy New York City street. It's getting darker earlier these days and Brian frowns at the lack of sunlight. 

“I’ll never be used to this cold. In California, we don't have seasons. How annoying.” The man zips up his hoodie and Brian frowns at him. 

“Well, if you would wear an actual coat, you wouldn't be cold.”

“You sound like a guy I used to know.” The man interlocks his arm through Brian’s and starts to lead them down the busy rush hour sidewalk. 

“Sounds like a smart guy. Was he hot?” Brian asks, turning them down a side street. He couldn't stand the crowds at this hour. He’s used to staying later, but he had promised Mr. Smirker here he would take him to dinner. At a ‘normal’ hour. Whatever the fuck that meant. 

“The hottest.”

Brian makes a disgusted sound and suddenly he’s being poked in his side. He wiggles out of the way, smiling. 

“Before I met you, of course.” 

Brian kisses the side of the man’s head and pulls the hood up from his sweatshirt over his head, 

“Buzzcuts. Yuck. Ever think about growing your hair long?” Brian asks. 

“I had it longer. A while ago. Just felt like going back to my roots. Why, I’m not hot with short hair?” 

Brian stops walking and turns the man in his arms, looking into his eyes under the hood. 

“No, Stiles. Your haircut is hot.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Still own Laura’s old apartment.”_
> 
> _Stiles nods._
> 
> _Justin turns and gives Derek an odd look. “Who’s Laura?” He whispers._
> 
> _Both Stiles and Brian snort._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read the first part of this fic. I know its not for everyone but somehow I just feel like if Brian and Justin were to ever move on they'd find comfort in people like Derek and Stiles. In a way Derek reminds me of Brian in a supernatural way *g* and Stiles reminds me of Justin. 
> 
> Not to worry, as promised this ends in Sterek and Britin. But a lot of angst and yelling and memories in the mean time. 
> 
> Comments are love.

  
**Justin:**

Justin breaks up with Brian the way he does everything in his life. 

Artistically. 

It's really the only word he can think of when he looks back on how things ended with the man he was going to marry. The man Justin felt he would love forever. The man who changed Justin in so many ways he knew there was no going back from it. 

Justin sent Brian an intricate series of paintings to end the relationship that had brought Justin to life and destroyed his very core all at once. The paintings told a tale of a young 17-year-old boy on the edge of his sexual awakening who fell in love with a man who showed him what it was like to fuck, and be brave, and take chances, and what it was like to fall in love. The paintings told a tale of tears and smiles. Of screams of pain and screams of pleasure. It told the tale of time apart and times together that could bring the world to its knees.And it told a tale of distance so great...so confining that someone had to be the one to decide that if things were meant to be, they would and they shouldn't have to try so hard for it to be. 

All Justin got back was a polaroid of the paintings hanging in Kinnetik with Brian’s scrawl on the bottom that says “Later”, in pure Kinney fashion. 

See? Artistically. 

Justin didn't let go of Brian. He just kept living his life without Brian in it. 

Brian Kinney was so embedded deep inside his skin, his bones, that he’d never fully be over him. And Justin didn't think he ever wanted to be. He didn't need to be. People break up and feel the need to “get over someone”. Either immediately or in time. 

Justin doesn't need to do that. He likes the ghost of Brian with him. He likes the haunting of little things here and there that bring Brian back to him. One of Brian’s sweaters in the back of a drawer. A sketch of him that falls out of one of his hundred sketchbooks. The smell of his cologne as he walks through a department store. 

It makes Justin smile now. It used to make his chest ache and his stomach churn to the point where he wouldn't be able to eat for days. But now he smiles. 

He will always love Brian. It isn't something that goes away and he doesn't want it to. He never understood the need to “get over something.” To move on. When someone affects your whole life like Brian did with him; consuming his entire existence; there is nothing to move on from. You just keep living. 

And that's what he’s doing.

And that's how he met Derek. 

He meets him at the Met and it's so cliche and sickening because as soon as Justin starts talking to him he’s having deja vu to back when a Music major started talking about art and that feeling it gave him. 

But there is something about Derek. Something just below the surface; this look of pain that Justin recognizes all too well. It's a look he lived with in another person for 5 years and he guesses old habits die hard because 1 year later he’s holding hands with Derek in front of the same painting they first met in front of and that pain and the secrets he knows Derek is hiding inside him just draws Justin to him more. 

It's not fair, Justin knows that. Because Justin has to wonder if Derek was a normal functioning human being without his darkness and scars if Justin would have lasted past fucking him. 

It's not that he doesn't care for Derek. Hell, he might even love him. It's not a love that tortures and rocks you. It's not a love that you write songs about. It's not a love that makes Derek Justin’s muse. But it's a comforting love. The kind of love that you can sleep next to every night and take comfort in. It's the kind of love that takes over for the loneliness. It's the kind of love that holds your hand when you end up in the hospital from a seizure. It's the kind of love that sits with you when they have to drain fluid from your brain and does not press for answers when you aren't willing or even able to tell him about what happened all those years ago when you were 18 and the most romantic night of your life was ruined with a baseball bat. 

It's the kind of love that you can live with. It doesn't consume you. It doesn't destroy you from the inside out. 

So Justin has to wonder if he’d still be with Derek if he didn't have his demons. Because again old habits die hard and Justin’s always been attracted to the damaged, silent, strong types. 

But every once in awhile, when the question crosses his mind when things seem to be too good and he starts to wonder when the other shoe will drop, he sneaks a look at Derek and tells himself not to think about it. Nothing could fuck this up. 

At least not until he sees Brian Kinney 2 days later outside Macy’s with a pale, skinny kid with a buzz cut...yes, KID and Derek almost passes out he turns so white. 

Yeah, that could fuck it up.

  
**Stiles:**

Everybody has their breaking points.

Everyone.

There will come a time in everyone's life, no matter where you are or what you're doing when you will look around and just KNOW it's time to make a change. 

That enough is just fucking enough. 

And that's what happened about a month before Stiles was supposed to leave for college. 

He was eighteen, almost died like 8 times already and the idea of staying in California to go to college, no matter how much he wanted and kind of needed to be near his Dad, he just...couldnt. There was no way to explain it. There was no way to sit his Dad down and have actual words flow from his brain and out of his mouth to give his father valid reasonable reasons as to why he was leaving. 

But somehow John Stilinski understood. 

When Stiles handed him his NYU late acceptance application for the parent’s signature, he looked at it with sad eyes, which then flickered up to his son, but he signed. And he let him go. 

Because he knew. 

Everyone has their breaking points. 

Stiles could give a bunch of valid reason as to why he left. Like, really good reasons. Anyone who had ever lived in Beacon Hills or went to the high school or Christ, knew Stiles, would say RUN as fast as you can out of this town. 

But Stiles knew the real reason. He knew exactly why he left. 

Because he never had the nerve to tell Derek freaking Hale how he felt about him and every inch of this town reminded him of Derek and Stiles had to start over. Lydia was leaving. Scott was moving on with his life. He had new pack members...he didn't need Stiles. This town didn't need him anymore. And for once he didn't feel sad about it. 

So he left. 

Stiles had been in New York for almost 4 years, about to finish his senior year at NYU and earning a Bachelor’s degree in Marketing and Advertising. He could sell anything to anyone and quite frankly it was nice to find something else he was good at besides researching monsters and how to kill something before it killed him. 

And that's when Stiles started working at Kinnetik.

It started off as an internship which then turned into Part Time while he finished his senior year. He had a job there in the bag once he graduated. Stiles was good at his job, he was a fast learner, enthusiastic, and a real go-getter his boss told him when he offered Stiles the full-time position before he even got his diploma. 

It had nothing at all to with the fact that Stiles was fucking him. 

Brian Kinney is some sort of...God. There really is no other way to describe him. The way he talks. Looks. Breathes. Walks. Everything about him is smooth and sexy and confident. He’s everything Stiles’ isn't with his flailing and loud voice and clumsiness.

All things he told Stiles he liked about him. 

He told him once that Stiles reminded him of someone. Someone he knew a long time ago. He looked almost sad when he said it, which is weird for Brian because Stiles honestly didn't think he had that type of emotion in him. So he did not press. 

Because the truth is, Brian reminded Stiles of someone he knew a long time ago too. 

Someone who was haunted and damaged and quiet. Someone who held their emotions just below the surface of their skin but if you cut them, just ever so slightly, their world would boil over into chaos due to all the pain and emotion.

But Stiles doesn't talk about those things. Neither of them talk about those things. 

They talk about stupid things like Brian’s obsession with James Dean and Marlon Brando. They talk about if they are scared of ghosts or if they think werewolves are real. He raises that damn sexy eyebrow at Stiles when he tells Brian he believes in them. Brian tells him he’s crazy and kisses him with everything he has. 

Stiles wonders sometimes if Brian’s thinking of someone else when he kisses him. 

Being with Brian is easy. There's no worry of being eaten alive or getting his heart broken into a million pieces by a scowl or a look because as much as Stiles cares about Brian, this isn't the kind of love that haunts you. Its simple. Easy. Fun. Exactly what Stiles needed when he came to New York. 

He knows Brian is probably out there fucking other guys. It honestly doesn't bother Stiles. This isn't the kind of love that makes him jealous or uneasy. Brian is who he is and Stiles respects it more than anything. It's a whole new feeling being with Brian and Stiles is enjoying every second of it. He’s someone else in New York. 

Stiles and Brian get just close enough that they care if one of them gets hit by a car but if either of them decided to walk away it wouldn't destroy them. The best way for Stiles to describe it is that they just enjoy each other. And that's really all he could ask for. He has no intention of screwing it up, and he can't see how it could until Brian hears a name whispered into the cold December air outside Macy’s. A name Stiles knew, only by Art magazines and paintings in Kinnetik and Brian’s apartment because it's scrawled in the corner. A name Stiles has yet to ever dare say himself let alone ask about the body it belongs to.

But Stiles doesn't need to wonder anymore. Because the body is standing not 5 feet from them all blonde hair and round blue eyes with his hand firmly gripped inside a hand of the body whose name Stiles has yet to ever whisper in Brian’s presence either. 

And that’s when Stiles laughs. 

Because there is honestly nothing else to do but laugh. At the irony. At his life. At the awkward expressions on everyone’s faces. 

Derek looks like he’s about to throw up and Stiles doesn't think he’s ever seen him so pale. Justin, who has as pale skin as Stiles looks almost amused as well and somehow NOT surprised to see Brian but Stiles does recall getting a very quick stink eye from him. 

And Brian...Brian just seems to be mesmerized by Justin. Staring, swallowing...just completely still. 

Stiles feels things...intense things inside him scratching to get out at the fact Derek still wears leather and his beard is a bit longer than the last time Stiles saw him. 

Oh and the fact that he’s holding a GUYS hand. That’s new. And intriguing. 

And fucking bullshit. 

“What are you doing here?”

Derek is the first to speak and it shocks Stiles in a way. 

“I go to school here. And live here.” Stiles answers with a flip tone in his voice and pauses to eye both him and Justin, yeah that's his name, next to him. Whose hand is still wrapped tightly inside Derek's. “Guess you found your way back to New York.”

“Still own Laura’s old apartment.”

Stiles nods. 

Justin turns and gives Derek an odd look. “Who’s Laura?” He whispers. 

Both Stiles and Brian snort.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who is reading. This is hard trying to get all 4 characters down but I think I'm doing okay. >_>
> 
> Comments as usual are LOVE.

  
  


**Brian:**

Everyone who meets me now would never believe the person I used to be. 

I’m still an asshole. I’m still a workaholic. I still wanna get my dick sucked whenever and wherever I can. 

But the Brian Kinney I was when I first met Justin doesn't exist anymore. 

I know what it feels like now. I know the ‘feeling’ everyone goes on and on about. As Debbie once put in her no bullshit way, I let another heart touch mine. Or some fucking shit like that. 

I’m calmer now. I let myself actually give a shit about people and situations now. Theodore tells me it makes me a better boss. Maybe it does. It doesn't matter because I just know I’m different. 

Because of Justin. 

And I could be pissed off, which I honestly was for a while. I mean I fucking moved here to be with him. But it took a lot of time and Beam to make me realize that Justin didn't need someone to follow him. Justin didn't need big grand declarations of love anymore. I had done that once; it was enough for him. 

No, what Justin needed was time. 

Time to breathe. To be himself. To be on his own. To paint. And fuck. And see this fucking world without me in it. 

And I understood that. After I packed up my life in the Pitts, opened Kinnetik New York and knocked on his door to tell him _‘here I am, sunshine. Let's get on with our lives together.’_ Well, not in those words. In fact, I didn't say anything. Because the apartment I went to no longer belonged to him. 

Yeah, I got those paintings he sent me after months of radio silence. Message received loud and clear. And if I’m being honest here, I didn't JUST open Kinnetik New York to be near Justin. It was a good business move at the time and I knew that Cynthia and Theodore could handle things in the Pitts most of the time. 

And I’m not even sure I intended to stay in New York forever. I guess I was just waiting until Justin was done with his little adventure and I assumed we would go home together. Wherever he decided he wanted that to be. 

And maybe I should have told him my plans. Maybe I should have just shot him an email or I don't know, called the lad, before I up-heaved my entire life and expected him to be right where I left him in Soho after the last visit to see him all that time ago. 

I was actually surprised. It's funny now looking back. But it was such a Justin thing to do. So I just moved on. 

I didn't call him. I didn't email. I just got a new apartment on the upper East side and launched my business and moved the fuck on. Maybe some of the old Brian Kinney is still in there because I decided enough was enough and it was time for us both to get the fuck on with our lives. 

But as months past...days into days into nights, and I KNEW that Justin knew where I was because he and I still both talk to Mikey and Deb and every once in awhile I get a call from his dear old Mommy, I realized that I hadn't moved on. I just was living. Because I knew...I know...you don't move on from Justin Taylor. You just...live without him. 

It was really only time. 

And I knew the day would come where I would run into him. Not because Manhattan is such a small city, but because the big jokester in the sky or whoever controls karma and fate and all that happy crappy bullshit, would never allow us to never see each other again. 

I knew it would happen. In fact, I welcomed the idea. And I knew it would sting. I knew my chest would ache and my hands would tingle with the urge to touch him, but it was fine. It's what happens when you spend 5 years of your life with someone who changes you to your very core. That feeling never goes away. And I don't want it to. It's something that has settled into my bones. And not to sound too lesbionic, but Justin is a part of me now. 

But then I met Stiles. 

And even though I had changed and knew what real love was now and I understood now that I deserved to be loved and bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, I never ever thought I would care about someone else again. Not in that way. Not the way I care about Theodore or fuck even Honeycutt. I never thought I’d let someone into my life again like I did Stiles. And maybe it's unfair, in a way I know it is, but he reminds me a lot of Justin. And I guess I have a type now because he wormed his way into my life and brain and body and whatever was left of my emotions, feelings and heart that Justin had not taken up residency in, now belongs to Stiles on that level. 

Stiles is...a lot. Hyper, no filter, passionate, weird, strong, smart. He keeps me on my toes in ways Justin never did. And even though he’s emotional we don't have the same push and pull relationship (God, I still hate that word) type crap that Justin and I had. It's easy. He doesn't question if I care...sometimes I wonder if he even gives a shit if I do. He’s never asked me about other guys. Never asks me where I am or where I was. I can see the darkness just below the surface with him; of where he ran all the way to New York from. He hasn't told me much of his life in California and I don't really ask because quite frankly I still believe that some things are just supposed to be left dead and buried. My father was dead and my mother died, finally, last year and I was distant and cold for a few days but Stiles never asked and I never told him. I know his own mother had died a long time ago but from the smiles on his face, I know they had the type of relationship me and my own mother never had. I had wanted to call Justin...God, if I ever wanted to call Justin…

But I didn't. I just told Mikey and called Debbie at 1am just to tell her I was alive and fine and she knew why. She was more of a mother to me than my own and I guess sometimes I just need to be reminded. I’m only human. 

But Stiles...

I don't think his are dead. I think the things that haunt him are still very much alive. 

And now one of those things, possibly the main thing that he had run so far across the country from, is standing in front of us holding hands with Sunshine. 

I had whispered his name when I saw the mess of long blonde hair (I had never seen it so long) and it came out up through my vocal cords and out of my mouth so quickly it was like a reflex I had almost forgotten about until Justin was standing in front of me again. 

And when Stiles began to talk to the tall, dark and handsome man holding my ex’s (shit) hand, I almost laughed because that deity in the sky I had spoken about? The one who controls Karma and fate? Well, they reared their ugly head and here we are outside Macy’s standing as deep in it as humanly possible.

Justin and I just stare at each other because from the way it seems whatever had happened between Stiles and scruff guy was either a bit too fresh for the both of them or unresolved or something crazy because their body language says it all. But Justin and I? Our eyes say it all. I guess they always had. He could always see what I was trying to say all those years by looking into them. It's probably why he stuck around so long. Why he kept coming back. 

Am I surprised he found someone else? Fuck no. It's what he was supposed to do. I’m not the Brian Kinney anymore that thought Justin Taylor was going to run off and get married to some happy homo and adopt a bunch of kids from a third world country. That's not my Justin. What I’m surprised most about is how he's not surprised to see me with someone. 

Brian Kinney does not window shop with people. He doesn't laugh and hug them on the sidewalk. 

At least not with people who aren't him. 

When Justin asks his beau who Laura is, Stiles and I both make a sound from our throats and noses and when Justin and stubbly guy glare at us, I feel my pants tighten because Justin’s annoyed look was always his hottest. 

Well, that, and when he was smiling. 

God, I miss that smile sometimes. 

“Your hair is fucking long,” I finally say in that voice that runs off my tongue like honey that I know used to make Justin almost cream his tighty whiteys every time. 

“Lazy,” He offers back. I just nod. 

“How’s work?” 

This time, I smirk. “Brilliant.” 

“As if there was any doubt.” He flashes me that familiar smirk of his own and I raise an eyebrow. He doesn't ask about Mikey or Deb or anyone because he doesn't have to. He keeps in touch. And I’m grateful that whatever happened between him and I never tarnished the relationships he had with everyone. But I knew somehow it wouldn't. Justin is too mature for that. More mature than I ever was. 

Justin sneaks a peek at his beau and me at Justin and the tension and hurt just radiates off them. Justin and I don't have that. Which I’m not quite sure at this moment makes me happy or sad. It makes me think that maybe whatever Justin and I had is really over. That we were what we were to each other and now it's just...done. Over is such an overused word. Because over isn't something I have ever been with it comes to Justin. It may be done...but over implies that I have forgotten and wasn't affected. No. Done is a better word. Because it may be finished but Justin has and will always stay with me. 

“Why don’t we all go to dinner?” I offer. Stiles turns to look at me like I just announced I was straight all of a sudden and stubble guy just looks like he’s in pain. In fact, he’s looked like that the whole time. God, this guy is damaged. Guess Sunshine has a type too. 

And Justin? Just smiles and shakes his head at my suggestion. He knows me so well. He always has. He’s always been onto me. He knows I’m just nosy and can never let anything go and I want to see how this whole fucked up intricate series of events happened. 

“Sure,” Justin answers for the two of them and I give Stiles a ‘well?’ look and he just nods and sighs heavily. 

“Four Seasons? 8 o'clock?” Justin suggests and I scoff.

“I see your style hasn't changed.” 

He gives me a small shrug and smug look. “Of course not.”

Fuck, I want to hug him. There is way more I’d love to do to him, but that's just a knee-jerk reaction. Like a phantom limb or some shit. 

Stiles’ ghost looks at him with, wow yeah he’s got nice eyes, and tries to give him more than the pained expression he’s been wearing but it fails miserably. 

“That sounds good.” He finally says gently. 

“Sure.” Stiles murmurs. 

When we finally part from this overwhelming and suffocating encounter; long lingering looks that seem to stretch on for days; I drape my arm around Stiles’ shoulder but he’s so tense he could break through a brick wall, I pull him close to me, making him stumble a bit on his feet. 

“He was hot,” I groan against his ear. 

Stiles lets of a breath he had been holding and I feel his body shake a bit. “Sure.” He repeats for the second time in 3 minutes. He side glances me. “You two seem okay.” I know he’s referring to Justin. 

I bring my lips into my mouth and nod. “There's no reason not to be.”

Stiles laughs now and shakes his head. “I wish it was that simple.”

I don't pry. We just walk, at his pace because it's what he needs right now, and as much as I want to ask so many fucking questions about who that guy was, what he meant to him, if he meant as much to Stiles as Justin did...does to me, I don't. 

Some things are best left buried.  
  
 **Derek:**  


You have to bury the dead really deep, otherwise, they will come back and haunt you. 

What the hell was Stiles doing in New York? Why am I so surprised? Why hadn't I known sooner? I mean he goes to college here? So he’s been here four years and I have never seen him? Or knew? 

But I know why I didn't know. Because not once have I picked up the phone and called anyone back in Beacon Hills. I never went back. Not once. Not since I left Mexico with Braeden. 

I didn't bury my dead. I just ran as far away as I could hoping the ghosts wouldn't find me.

But they always do. I should know that by now. 

I had been in New York almost 4 years. When things didn't work out with Braeden, not like I thought they actually would. I’m not even that naive. Not anymore. Braeden isn't the type of girl you settle down with. She’s more of a flight risk than I ever was. So when she took off leaving me in the Nevada desert to go back to Beacon Hills to hunt your one great conquest, I didn't even blink an eye. She never asked me if I wanted to go with her, even though I know she was waiting for me to. But I couldn't. 

So I went back to New York, to the apartment I shared with Laura all those years ago. The Hale’s owned it and after I did a thorough cleaning and got new furniture, I just settled in. I tried not to think of California because honestly it never really felt like home to me. 

Home, I realized the hard way, wasn't a place. It was the people you surround yourself with. So when I found myself missing Beacon Hills I realized I wasn't missing the town. The town itself held too many demons wrapped in ashes. No I missed the people. 

I missed Stiles.

The realization of how I felt about him didn't hit me until I watched Braeden’s motorcycle kick up Vegas dirt. Because the only reason I would have gone back to California was to see him. But the idea that Stiles would ever feel about me the way I had just begun to feel about him was just a daydream I find still invades my head long after I went East instead of West. 

I had convinced myself that every look, every touch...every shot of electricity I felt all those times with Stiles was nothing. That I had craved attention, affection so badly, from anyone, that I made it all up in my head. Stiles never once showed any real interest..he was in love with Lydia for Christ’s sake. All the times I thought I had heard the uptake in Stiles’ heartbeat...I guess I made it up. It was just his normal hyperactive self and I was reaching for something that just wasn't there. I had been reaching for things that weren't there for a long time and I decided enough was enough. 

So one day I just decided I wasn't going to think about Stiles anymore. 

And then I met Justin. 

Justin is passionate. Stubborn. Smart. Twisted in this really innocent way if that can even make sense. But he’s also silly and he can laugh at himself. He loves art; his work is so beautiful and haunting that I know he has his own demons that I may never know about. And that's okay. 

He has no idea what I am. Not once in the year I had been seeing him did I slip up or shift in front of him. He thinks I’m just this normal guy from California who inherited a ton of money from his family’s untimely death and I own a bunch of real estate in Manhattan and Brooklyn and I spend my free time reading and working out. 

We don't get too deep or too serious. But I care about him. And I know he cares about me. When he has a seizure and ends up in the hospital they kept going on and on about his ‘previous head trauma’ but I still to this day don't know what that means. He never offered up the information and I figured it's just something he wants to leave buried. 

I had heard the name Brian before. I knew he had to be Justin’s ex or someone very important that used to be in his life. There is an entire file on his computer named ‘Brian.’ Every once in awhile he gets a phone call and tells them he needs to reach ‘Mr. Kinney’ at this so and so number. I googled the number once. It came up 'Kinnetik.' In Pittsburgh. Where Justin is from. 

One time, about 6 months ago Justin had an art show at this little gallery in Chelsea. This one painting he did, Jesus it was breathtaking, I wanted to buy. He knew I wanted to buy it because I told him so when he had finished it and asked my opinion on it. 

But that night, as I stared at the red dot on the corner of the painting in the gallery, indicating that it had been sold, somehow in my bones I knew who had bought it. Someone had come in before the show even opened and bought it. 

And I knew who that someone was. So did Justin. He just stared at that red dot too for what seemed like hours that night. 

Like I said, you need to bury the dead real deep so they don’t come back and haunt you. 

So the second we saw Stiles with his...boyfriend...on the street...the way Justin just...stopped...it reminded me of that night in front of his painting at the gallery. 

It was him. 

This was Brian. 

He seemed okay when we walked away from them. He made me stop in front of another Christmas display in a window and he smiled and chattered on about whatever it was that was coursing through his head at the moment and I don't know if it was a defense mechanism (Stiles used to do the same thing) or he just knows how tense and uncomfortable I still am and is trying to deflect it because we don't normally talk about things like this. 

Maybe we should. 

“That was Stiles,” I tell him finally grabbing his wrist so he will stop walking. There we are in the middle of a busy NYC sidewalk, people grumbling and pushing past us. He blinks. 

“Okay.”

“He’s dating Br...your ex…?” I realize my fact turns into a question because the bottom line is I’m still not sure who the hell that guy with Stiles was. 

He nods. “Brian.” He pauses, cocking his head a bit. “Stiles your ex?”

I shake my head. “No.”

Then as if a light bulb goes off in his blonde head, his eyes suddenly become clearer and bluer if that’s even possible. “The guy you were in love with but never told him.”

I give him a small nod. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I scoff.

“Derek,” He gives me a dramatic sigh. “We both have our pasts. Some of it might be good stuff, some might not be. But I’ve learned the hard way not to let it affect my present. Or my future. If you don't want to go to dinner with them, I understand. But I want to see Brian. And not for the reasons you may think. Yes, we were together. A long time. He was the first person I ever loved. The only person I ever loved.” It's as if he waits for a reaction out of me. I don't give him one. That fact honestly doesn't bother me. I’m such a shit.

“He’s important to me,” He continues. “But obviously, you and Stiles have some stuff that isn't finished. And that's fine. So tell me now if you don't want to do this dinner. I can go alone.”

I swallow and a million scenarios run through my head. I should be jealous, right? And maybe like 2 hours ago if Justin had told me he was going to see his ex-boyfriend I would have been. But seeing Stiles again has thrown me into a loop I never thought I’d be in again. You think you’re okay but then realize how not you are. 

“You should go,” I push out. “I think…”

Justin nods, knowing what I’m trying to say without me having to say it. He’s good like that. 

“I’ll call Brian. I’d bet money he still has the same number.” He reaches into his pocket. “Tell me where you want Stiles to meet you.”

I give him a confused look. “What? Are you just going to tell him to meet me somewhere? You don't even-”

Justin laughs before I can finish my sentence. “I’m not going to tell him anything. Brian will, and if there is one thing I know about Brian is that he can convince anyone to do anything. It's part of his charm.” Justin’s mouth upturns in a way I had never seen before. I’ve seen many of Justin’s expressions, but I’ve never seen this one. And his heart begins to hammer away in his chest and for a second I am jealous. But then I think about Stiles. Again. 

“Yeah, he sounds real charming,” I mumble. “More like a sociopath.”

Justin laughs and brings his cell phone up to his ear. “No, worse. He’s in advertising.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you to all who have been reading. 
> 
> Here is the moment you've been waiting for. The reunion between the couples without the "boyfriend."
> 
> I actually cried writing this part. These boys, all of them, just kill me. 
> 
> Comments are love <3

  
  
__**At that particular time love encouraged me to leave  
At that particular moment I knew staying with you meant deserting me  
That particular month was harder than you'd believe but I still left  
At that particular time**   


**Justin:**   
  


I once said Brian had the face of a God. 

No matter how many years have passed, what we have been through, how there were times when I looked at him it physically made me sick with anger, he is and will always be the most beautiful man I have ever seen. 

I have to catch my breath, and composure for a moment when I walk into the Four Seasons and find him sitting at the bar, sipping lightly on what I know is a double of Beam. Some things never change. 

I smooth down my sweater underneath my Pea-coat and straighten my posture as I walk toward him. He catches my eye and I get that same smirk from him that makes a flood of memories course through my blood. It still goes straight to my cock and sometimes I fucking hate him for the hold he’s always had over me. 

It’s only fucking time, right?

“The ambiguous Justin Taylor,” He drawls as I shift my messenger bag off my shoulders and onto the chair next to him. 

“In the flesh,” I turn to the bartender. “Vodka tonic.”

“Glad to see all your time in New York didn’t make you a snob when it comes to alcohol.” Brian takes a sip of his drink and eyes me over the rim. 

“I know what I like.” We clink our glasses together and I finally take the seat next to him. He leans on the bar and cocks his head to the side. “How’s Stiles?”

“Shitting his pants,” Brian plays with his napkin and looks at me through long lashes. “Derek?”

“I literally had to push him out of the apartment.” 

He laughs, shaking his head. “Drama queens.”

“Yeah, well, I guess we both have a type.” We clink our glasses again, even though his is now empty. 

“Are you angry?” He asks quietly. I know what he means. And I want to lie. I want to act like I’m not that 17 year old kid anymore following him around with hearts in my eyes. I’m not that person anymore. Even though sitting here with him makes me doubt myself in ways I haven't in a long time. 

“You’d think I would be, right?” I snort out a laugh. “And I guess I am. I haven't had much time to think about it. I was too busy holding Derek’s hand with all his feelings on him seeing the love of his life with you and I guess I’m just a bit too overwhelmed with how typical this is.”

“Typical?” 

“Yeah. Of two of us. We both finally have an amicable break up. No hard feelings and of course our first time seeing each other couldn't just end in crazy allyway sex like I had always imagined. Instead we were too busy making sure our boyfriends weren't having nervous breakdowns. When the hell did we get so mature?” He doesn't correct me when I say boyfriends. And it makes my chest ache. 

“You thought about having sex with me in an alleyway?” He leans in, smelling of cigarettes and beam and a new cologne I don't recognize. 

“That’s what you took from that?” I pause. “Never mind. Of course it was.”

Brian just sits back and opens his arms in a ‘here I am, Brian Kinney’ sort of way. I realize now he’s a little tipsy. I wonder how long he’s been sitting here waiting for me. It's such an open ended question. 

“Is it serious?” He finally asks as the bartender puts another glass of Beam down in front of him. 

“I can’t answer that.”

“Why’s that?” 

I sigh. “Because my idea of serious isn't your idea of serious.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. 

“My idea of serious is sharing ideas and passions. Sharing a bed. Standing by someone in good and bad times. I could say that most of my friendships in themselves are serious.” He’s just staring at me. “But serious for you is much deeper than that. So what exactly do you mean by serious, Brian. Serious for me, or serious for you?”

He brings his lips into his mouth and looks down at the bar. He’s quiet for a few minutes before finally speaking. His voice is hoarse I chalk it up to all the beam and cigarettes I’m sure he has smoked since he saw me outside Macy’s. 

“Just ask me already, Justin. I know you’re dying to.”

I feel my hands ball into fists. “You broke the rules.”

He nods. “I did. Long after you did.”

“You weren't supposed to fall in love with anyone else.”

“Who says I did?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Brian.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” His eyes flip upwards to mine. 

“More bullshit.”

He makes a smacking sound inside his mouth and finishes his drink in one large gulp. He cringes, placing his glass down a tad bit too hard on the bar. “Yes, I kiss him. Yes, I fucked him more than once. Yes, he’s spent the night. So yeah, I guess I broke the rules. Rules you made up. Rules I lived by for years. Even those first few years you were gone. But I’m not the same person anymore, Justin. You changed me. You’re fucking inside me.” He grasps at his chest. “Even assholes like me get lonely, Justin.”

“I guess I’m still that selfish lovesick kid I always was.” I finish my drink and grab my bag from the floor. “It was great to see you, Brian.”

“That’s it?” He asks, eyes wide. I guess I can still surprise him. 

“Isn't it?” I challenge him. 

“You stupid, twat.” He stands grabbing his jacket over the back of the chair. “You honestly think this is just some coincidence? That the gods of fate are getting their rocks off at our expense? No. This shit is COSMIC, Justin.” Oh god, he’s really drunk. “If you think for one second our two boyfriends or whatever the hell you want to call them aren't going put us through the ringer now that they’ve found each other again, you're more stupid than I ever thought you were. Even if they don’t end up back together or whatever the fuck, you think things will ever be the same between you and him? Or me and Stiles?”

I swallow. “I...don’t know.”

“How about what we are gonna put them through, huh? Cause you think we are gonna forget this? Go on like this hasn't shattered us?” He narrows his eyes at me. “You wanna deal with that? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”

“But you care about him.” It's not a question.

“Of course I do. But if scruff guy is gonna make him happy, then that’s who he should be with. I haven't changed on that , Justin. You want something else, go get it. There are no fucking locks on my doors.” He runs his hand through his graying hair. “But christ, Justin. He’s not you or anything.”

Don’t cry, Justin. Don’t. You’re stronger than this. You have a life now. A life of your own without Brian’s money or powerful influence. But his eyes right now. And maybe it's just because he’s drunk but fuck if I don't feel 17 years old again. 

And yeah, I never moved on even though I don't even believe in that term. I was living a life without Brian in it. And I care about Derek. I love him in such an innocent, natural way. But...it's Brian. It's always been Brian.

“Then, what, Brian? WHAT? What is it we are supposed to do? Walk away? Push away, like you do so well?”

“Let him be happy. Let Stiles be happy. And fuck for the love of God, Justin, how about you be happy too?” He’s pleading me with his eyes. For what I don't know. Fuck, yes I do. I know that look. I saw it after I was bashed. I saw it when I came back to him after Ethan. I saw it when after his cancer. I saw it when I came back from California. I saw it after the bombing. His eyes hold so many words. They always have. And I hear them. 

“Now grab your fucking bag and let's go upstairs so I can fuck your goddamn brains out.” 

And fuck if I don’t follow him.  
  


**Derek:**   
  


I can hear his heartbeat, feel his heartbeat, before I even reach him as he sits on the bench next to the Imagine memorial in Strawberry fields. Stiles told Brian to tell Justin to tell me to meet him in Central Park. I didn't need an exact location. Stiles knew I didn't. Not only could I make out his heartbeat and scent better than anyone else in my life, I knew that his mother used to sing him Beatles songs as lullabies when he was a kid so I knew it was probably one of his places to go in the city to think. 

I was right. 

Sometimes I hate being right. 

He doesn't look at me as I approach and I just sit warily next to him and watch as his cold fingers dig into themselves as he wrings his hands together. 

“I never thought I’d see you again.” He breathes out. It feels like snow. 

“Were you hoping not to?”

“Yes.” He inhales. “And no.”

“I should have said goodbye when I left with Braeden.”

“You think that’s what I’m upset about?” 

“I don't know what you're upset about, Stiles. I just know that whatever it is, it’s killing you.”

“Stop it with the fucking smelling me. God, I hate werewolves.” 

I turn and look at him finally. “Is that why you left?”

“Sort of.”

“How’s Scott?”

He turns his head toward me and gawks at me. “Seriously?”

I shrug.

“Justin seems nice.”

“He is.”

“Brian’s a mess.”

“Doesn't seem it.”

“Guess I have a thing for guys who are tough on the outside but damaged as hell inside.”

I close my eyes and try to regulate my breathing in and out through my nose. Fuck it's cold. Even for me. 

“What are we doing here, Stiles?”

“I think our boyfriends think we should talk.” He pauses. “But I feel after today they won't be our boyfriends anymore. You saw the way they looked at each other. Like it was just yesterday they had been together.”

“Not like us.” 

“Doesn't make it any less intense.”

“Listen, Stiles…”

“I needed you.” He interrupts me. “I fucking needed you so badly. So many times and you just...left. I mean you had left before, you know? But you always came back. Right when we needed you most. But...not this time. You were just gone, Derek.”

“It was just time for me to move on.”

“From everything? Everyone?”

He’s looking at me with such an intensity my skin itches. “Not everyone.”

“This is so fucked.”

“Is there something you want to say to me, Stiles? Other than how I should have been there for you? Cause I know all that. I live with that guilt, along with all the other pounds of guilt for all the other shitty stuff I’ve done in my life, everyday. So unless you have something important to tell me I don't think I can sit here-”

“I loved you.” He whispers. Fuck, he’s crying. “I love you. That’s why you should have come back.”

“You never told me.”

“Would it have mattered?”

Fuck, don’t cry. “Of course.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.”

“What about Brian?”

He laughs. “You’re an idiot.” He clears his throat. “Brian is a good man. I care about him. But if...if you told me you…” he shakes his head. “I just need to know. So I can get on with my life.”

“Know if I love you?”

He nods. 

“I do.”

He doesn't say anything. 

“So?” He shrugs so I stand. “Live your life, Stiles. You’ve been doing well so far. You got out of that town. You got a new life. If anyone deserved it, it was you. All I’m going to do is remind you of shit you don't want to think about anymore. I can't live like that. I can't have you look at me everyday and be the source of your pain.”

He looks up at me, the winter air causing his eyes to shimmer in a way I never thought they could. “The only pain in my life Derek is not having you.” He gives me a pained expression. “Does he know what you are?”

I shake my head. 

“Aren’t you tired of hiding?”

“Does Brian know where you came from?”

“No. Because no one gets to share that part of me or my past but you.”

I sigh and my body and emotions reject me as I shudder. “Stiles…”

“If you really wanna be with him, go. I won't stop you. I’ve lived without you this long. I can keep doing it. But we both know all of us, including Brian and Justin, were just biding their time.”

“Until when?”

“Until this happened. Until the world imploded around us and we were forced to face the things we left behind.”

“When did you get so poetic?” I sit again leaning my elbows against my knees. 

“Who the hell knows. I’m in advertising. I’ve been selling people shit they don’t need.”

I laugh. “I’ve been dating an artist for over a year.”

“So you're used to sad clowns and emo music. My poetry should be easy for you.”

I lean over, bumping his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He reaches over to take my hand in his. “Forgot how warm you were.” I close my eyes at the feel of his skin. “Tell me what you want, Derek. Not what you think you should do or how you think you should feel.”

“That always gets me in trouble.”

“We aren't in Beacon Hills anymore. It feels like another planet now. Just tell me the truth.”

I bring his hand up to my mouth and brush my lips and beard against his fingers. He lets out a small satisfied sigh and it's all the answers I need. All I’ve been searching for. 

“You, Stiles. I just want you.”


End file.
